


Trapped

by Crysania



Series: 300 follower prompt-a-thon [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 08:10:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1420969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crysania/pseuds/Crysania
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous Tumblr prompt: In the Dark Castle, Rumple and Belle get locked in the same room together after some magic gone wrong. Rumple can't break the spell, they can only wait for it to wear off, in 24 hours. They find ways to pass the time together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped

Rumplestiltskin snarled at the door to the room, face curled up in an anger that was as familiar to Belle as the back of her own hands.

“What’s wrong now?” She didn’t even look up from her book as she spoke to him, continuing to read while she waited for him to be able to form some sort of coherent thought.

“The magic.”

“I know.”

He muttered something after that, too quiet for her to hear properly. She knew that muttering. She knew it didn’t mean good things. She knew it meant he didn’t want to _admit_ something to her.

Setting the book down, she watched him for a moment. He was turned away from her, looking down to the side as he studied something on the table. The lines of his back were taut and there was still an angry sneer across his face. “What did you do?”

“I did _nothing_.”

She sighed. “Of course not.”

“The magic did it.”

“Of course it did.”

He gave her one of _those_ looks, the one that she used to find rather disconcerting, the one that would make her worry about what he was going to do next. She no longer worried. She had found, in the past months since coming to live there, that Rumplestiltskin took out his anger on inanimate objects. It meant that more than once she had to rescue her books from him before he destroyed the spines, but at least she didn’t have to worry about _her_ safety. “We’re trapped,” he finally said.

“Trapped? Where?”

She could see him fight to not roll his eyes at her. “Here. In this room.” He glanced down at something on the table. “For approximately 24 hours it would seem.”

“Well, that’s not so bad,” Belle murmured, grinning at him. “Just what _were_ you trying to do?”

“I was trying to create a trapping spell.”

“And it seems it…”

“Worked. Yes. A little too well. It wasn’t supposed to activate.” He reached down and plucked the bright blue potion from the desk.

“Well then,” Belle said, putting down the book and approaching Rumplestiltskin. “We’ll just have to find ways to pass the time, won’t we?”

He grimaced, every line of his face accentuated by the motion. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

* * *

They had spent the first hours of their entrapment continuing as they had been. If it weren’t for the fact that Belle had to have Rumplestiltskin conjure up a screen and a silencing spell so she could relieve herself without embarrassment, she would have felt it was just any other day in the castle.

But there was only so much they could do before boredom began to set in. Belle had set the book she was reading down, her eyes crossing after four straight hours, and two books, worth of reading the small print. Rubbing at her eyes, she watched Rumplestiltskin as he stared at another potion, stirring it aimlessly with a small crystal spoon.

“You’re not even working on that, are you?”

He didn’t move for a moment and then finally his eyes met hers. “No,” he said with a sheepish grin.

“My eyes are too tired to read anymore,” Belle admitted.

He nodded and then cleared his throat. “Well, it seems we’re at an impasse.”

“Indeed we are.”

A sort of awkward silence settled on them for a moment. “Chess?” Rumplestiltskin finally said.

Belle breathed a sigh of relief and then gave him a brilliant grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They had played chess before. Not often, but on occasion. Rumplestiltskin was a bit of a sore loser at times and Belle enjoyed besting him at any chance she got, a bad combination to be sure. Luckily for him, Rumplestiltskin didn’t lose very often. The sorcerer had many years on her, how many she never dared ask considering she was fairly certain he was immortal, but still, Belle was bright and picked up on his strategies quickly. And that annoyed him. Annoyed him _so much_. She was fairly certain he wasn’t used to being bested in a game of strategy.

Their chess game that night was as fierce as ever. Rumplestiltskin won the first two games and then suggested they call it a night. Belle refused and so instead they ate a quick meal, and Belle had never been so thankful for magic before as the meal was delicious and appeared with a snap of his fingers, and got back to it.

She won the next game.

And _then_ they called it a night, Belle with a smirk and Rumplestiltskin with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You’re not going to be mad at me all night are you?”

“Not _all_ night.”

“Just for the next few hours.”

“No.”

“Well, that’s good then.” Belle gave him a smile and retreated to the couch. He followed soon after, sitting near to her but not too near. Belle often touched him. She did it without thinking. She was an affectionate person by nature and when she cared for someone, touching him with some sort of affection was natural. And she _did_ care for Rumplestiltskin. That much she had figured out. But he was always very proper with her. He rarely reached out first and when she touched him, he often froze for a moment, eyes wide and breath catching. She wondered how long he had gone without touch, how long he had languished in the huge castle alone before she came to live with him.

Another somewhat awkward silence settled on them. It was getting on towards evening, the sun just beginning to set. There was much time still to pass before Belle felt she was ready to sleep. Not that sleep would come easy stuck in the tower room with just one small couch between them. She supposed he could use magic to rearrange the room and put another couch, a bed, _something_ in there, but she didn’t dare ask.

“Would you like to read to me?” Rumplestiltskin’s voice finally broke the silence and Belle turned to him, surprised.

“Really?”

“You always offer,” he said with a wave of his hand. They spent many evenings in silence in the Great Hall, he at his spinning wheel, she tucked up in a chair near the fire. He spun. She read. And the only sound was the crackle of the fire. She had asked, more than once she supposed, if he would like her to read aloud and he always refused.

“I do but you never want me to.”

“Well, this time I do.” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back on the couch.

“What do you want me to read?”

“Whatever.” Another wave of his hand accompanied the words.

Belle narrowed her eyes. “That’s no answer.”

“No,” he responded with. “No I suppose it’s not.”

“Then?”

“Here.” He leaned closer to her and raised one hand, hesitating for a moment before finally finishing the motion and cupping her chin lightly. Belle blinked once, twice, and leaned forward. He had never touched her of his own accord before. For a moment neither moved. “Think of the book you want.” His voice was quiet when he spoke, his breath fanning out across her face. Her eyes closed of their own volition. “Do you have it?” She nodded. “Good. Now hold out your hands.” As she did so, he pressed one long finger to her temple. A moment later she felt the reassuring weight of a book in her hands.

“The Native Plant Life of Agrabah?”

Belle opened her eyes at Rumplestiltskin’s amused words and looked down at the book, her face scrunching up. “That wasn’t what I really wanted.” His hand on her face, his face so close to hers, had apparently scrambled her mind a bit.

Rumplestiltskin heaved an overly dramatic sigh. “Well, think better this time, dear.” The book disappeared from her hands, back to wherever it had come from, she supposed.

He repeated the motion, cupping his hand under her chin and lightly touching her temple. This time, better prepared for the onslaught of emotions his touch caused, Belle was able to concentrate and retrieve the book she actually wanted.

“Ah, there we go.” Belle felt immeasurably proud of herself. Rumplestiltskin’s magic may have been the support for it, but _her thoughts_ had made it happen. She smiled at him as she opened her eyes and watched his eyes widen just a fraction.

And then the moment was over. Rumplestiltskin retreated, pulling his hand away from where it had still rested on her face, and Belle sat back, clutching the book.

“So what have you chosen then?”

Was she imagining the slight tremor in his voice as he spoke? She held up the book with the title, _The Dragon’s Curse_ , emblazoned across the front of the leather cover. He raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s better than plant life?” Belle suggested with a shrug. “I was thinking of an adventure novel, something I hadn’t read before, and this was what ended up coming.”

“Fair enough.”

“Are you going to spin?” 

He was silent for a moment, eyes trained on the spinning wheel across the room. “No. Not tonight.”

Belle nodded. “Rumplestiltskin?”

He was starting to lean back against the pillow he had conjured to make the couch more comfortable but stopped, back bent at a slightly odd angle. “Yes?”

She felt her cheeks burn slightly before she could give voice to her request. “I’m...I’d like to…that is…”

“Yes, yes dear, spit it out. We haven’t got all day.”

“Actually we do.” The smile that accompanied her words made her feel a little less embarrassed.

“I suppose you’re right about that.”

She could feel herself relax at the exchange, the humor behind the words. “I would like to be more comfortable.”

He arched an eyebrow at her and as she fiddled with the strings of her bodice, she could see understanding dawn. “Oh.”

“This isn’t usually what I sleep in.”

“Right.” His hand made a small gesture in the air and she could feel one of her cotton nightgowns settle around her skin. He had chosen one that still left her covered head to foot, nothing on display. The sleeves were long and flowing, the rest of the material comfortably loose but not shapeless. It was one of her favorites for how soft and warm it was. Her hair was also unbound, loose around her shoulders. She was comfortable, ready to read and curl up to sleep. And she smiled to see the way Rumplestiltskin avoided looking at her. He finally finished leaning back against the pillows, shifting slightly until he was comfortable. He closed his eyes and waved a hand in the air, a more subdued version of one of his usually flamboyant gestures.

With a smile he couldn’t see, Belle set to reading the tale of adventure gone wrong. The main character, a wizard still finding his way in the world, had set out on a somewhat ridiculous quest to retrieve an ancient magical artifact from a dragon’s lair high in the mountains. It was somewhat clichéd, really, but the story was interesting nonetheless.

“The wizard reminds me a bit of you,” Belle said halfway through the first chapter of the book. He did, in a way. Reckless, with a bit of a temper and a sense of showmanship that was all Rumplestiltskin. It made her smile.

Rumplestiltskin’s eyes slit open and he glanced at her, not even bothering to turn his head as he did so. “I rather thought I’m more like the dragon.”

“You do hoard treasures,” she pointed out.

“It’s not _hoarding_.” She didn’t know how he could make a mumble sound like a sneer, but he somehow managed it nonetheless. “It’s… _collecting_. One never knows when something you’ve _collected_ may become important. Future deals and all that. Now back to reading with you.” He wiggled his fingers at her and his eyes drifted shut once more.

She shook her head and smiled. He proved her right without ever quite realizing it. He _was_ the wizard in the book and as she continued reading, she pictured him in the role, strangely flamboyant gestures, expressive voice, odd giggles and all.

She was a good third of the way through the book when she looked up and realized that Rumplestiltskin had fallen asleep. She had never seen him so still before, head thrown back, mouth slightly open. The harsh lines of his face had smoothed out in his slumber. She realized she had never seen him so much as look groggy. In all honesty, she had begun to think he didn’t sleep. He was always up late, spinning in the Great Hall or working on something in his tower room. And he was always in the Great Hall when she came down in the morning.

Well, it was good to know he was ordinary in at least some ways. He ate, he slept, he breathed like a normal man even though he was anything but. She watched him for a moment, small smile on her face, eyes heavy with her own exhaustion. Setting the book down carefully on the floor, she resituated the pillows on the other side of the couch and curled up. It wasn’t the most comfortable way to sleep. She couldn’t stretch out without kicking Rumplestiltskin, who was still sprawled on the other side. But she was small and so found it at least fairly easy to curl up with her knees bent and one arm under a pillow.

It would have to do.

It was only for one night, after all.

* * *

Belle awoke some time later and was instantly aware of something heavy in her lap. She had shifted as she slept, stretched out with her back against the pillows and her heels hitting the ground. Her neck was bent at a slightly odd angle and as she moved her head, she felt the pain. She was sure that it was that odd position of her neck that ultimately had awakened her and not the strange weight in her lap.

She finally opened her eyes, not sure if she was willing to quite admit to being awake yet. The room was dark, the candles having finally gone out. Only the fireplace across the room and a bit of moonlight slanting through one of the windows lit up any portion of the room. Glancing down, she almost let out a small squeak of surprise. The weight in her lap was not the book she thought she might have left there, though she did remember setting it carefully on the floor. Nor was it a pillow. It was Rumplestiltskin, who had spread out across the couch in his sleep and had somehow ended up using her lap as a pillow.

She let out the breath she was holding once she calmed enough and reached up a hand to lightly touch his hair.

He shifted and she immediately dropped her hand to the side, but he seemed to not awaken. Instead, he turned his head in toward her, one hand coming up to rest on her hip. “Belle,” she could hear him murmur, though his voice sounded so muddled that she was sure he wasn’t really awake in that moment.

Then he shifted slightly again, moving closer to her, and Belle found she simply _stopped breathing_ in that moment. Gently, so gently she almost wasn’t sure she felt it, he touched his lips to her belly. She could feel his hot breath through the nightgown she wore, the damp heat of it. Her hand came up to pet his hair once more.

And then he retreated just a little bit, his face still turned toward her, his breath still fanning out across her stomach, but his lips no longer touched her. The hand on her hip went slack and she knew he had fallen into a deep slumber again.

Her hand still in his hair, Belle leaned back and shut her eyes, the onslaught of emotions almost too much for her to bear. He had touched her face of his own accord, cupped his hand under her chin. Now he was laying half atop her, kissing her in places no one had kissed her before.

And she _liked it_. Perhaps that was what scared her most. She didn’t _mind_ being trapped in this room, not if Rumplestiltskin was too. She didn’t _mind_ his being curled up with her. What would her people think of her now, leaning back on the couch with the Dark One curled up on her lap like a contented kitten?

It mattered not, she supposed. She was sure to never see them again and so there was no one to judge her for her actions. Or in this case, inaction. Relaxed and comfortable just as they were, Belle rested one hand on Rumplestiltskin’s arm, leaned back, and closed her eyes once more.

* * *

She awoke some hours later. As the sun had risen high enough to peak over the windows, the light that hit her face woke her up out of a deep sleep. She had been dreaming of dragons, dragons with high-pitched giggles and magic gone awry. She woke up feeling well-rested, though sometime during the night she had ended up with one leg up on the couch, the other on the floor. Rumplestiltskin still had his head in her lap, though the shift in position meant he was lying between her legs instead of across them and oh, wouldn’t _that_ be awkward when he woke up?

She tried to shift away, moving slowly. If she could sneak away, sit in a chair with a book, before he even woke up, he’d never know. But it was not to be. As soon as she moved, Rumplestiltskin did as well, shifting slightly, tightening his hold on her.

Gritting her teeth, Belle tried again. She didn’t want to wake the sorcerer. That was the last thing she wanted, really. But as soon as she had shifted back another few inches, his body tensed. Mere seconds later he was on his feet, brushing away imaginary specks of dust, a similar motion to the time he’d caught her when she’d fallen from the ladder.

“Belle…” His voice was hoarse, more of a croak than anything.

“Rumple…” She didn’t finish his name and shook her head, standing and backing away from him slightly. “Well, this is awkward.”

“We were asleep.”

“We were.”

“It’s the spell.”

“It is.” She bit her lower lip. “Is it still in effect?”

He nodded slowly. “Not much longer.”

“Good.” She looked away from him, plucked at the skirt of her nightgown. “Maybe?”

“Of course.” In moments she was back in her serviceable blue dress, hair pinned back as it usually was. She breathed a sigh of relief at feeling more covered, even though the nightgown had been entirely decent. It was just that no man had ever seen her in her night clothes before.

For a moment it looked like Rumplestiltskin wanted to say something else, but then with a flourish of his hand, he conjured breakfast for them. They ate in silence, quickly, barely looking at each other during the entire meal. They were nearly finished when Belle saw a flash of purple out of the corner of her eye. “Was that...”

“Yes.”

She put her fork down and stared at the remaining food on her plate. She supposed she had had enough, really. “I’ll just…” She didn’t know what else to say, folding her hands in her lap for a moment and taking a deep breath. “I suppose I should get to my chores.”

“Chores,” Rumplestiltskin repeated.

“Yes. I _am_ the maid, after all.” Belle couldn’t stop a little bit of amusement from creeping into her voice.

“Of course.” Rumplestiltskin nodded.

“Well, then…” Belle turned to go.

“Belle wait.”

She half-turned back to him. “Yes?”

“Take the day off. “

She smiled at him, nodded, and turned to go once more.

“It wasn’t so bad…being trapped here with me…was it?”

“No,” she said with just the ghost of a smile. “I had quite a good time.”

She finally walked out of the room. Glancing back for a just a moment before the door closed behind her, she saw Rumplestiltskin had moved to the couch, one hand caressing the fabric of the couch where she had slept so recently.


End file.
